


Be Not Afraid

by dogtit



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Autistic Character, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 16:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11925075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogtit/pseuds/dogtit
Summary: “I had some modifications made.” Mercy’s lips were thin. “I simply had enough of hiding while the rest of you suffered, healing from the shadows…” She shook her head, then looked at Symmetra. “If you don’t consent, then I won’t touch you…but I don’t feel good leaving you here on your own. I-I don’t–I don’t want you to get hurt.”That seemed almost like too intimate a confession to have in a pit, Symmetra observed, but her heart picked up speed and she felt a fluttery warmth pooling inside of her chest. It was…quite pleasant.“Then,” she breathed, “I suppose…just once…I would like to see how it is to fly, Doctor Ziegler.”





	Be Not Afraid

“My teleporter has been destroyed,” Symmetra announced grimly, her left eye twitching at the harsh, red blinking on the display of her visor. It went away, though phantom echoes of it still burned in the peripheral of her eye, damning. Despite having worked with Mercy for several months now, she still felt a humiliating chill crawling up her spine at the doctor being present for her failure. 

“And I suppose you can’t connect to any other ports you have set up,” Mercy said. 

Though she already knew the answer, Symmetra checked one more time. A wide array of error codes followed. “Correct.” She slanted her eyes to Mercy. “How did you know?”

“You would have gotten us out of here if you were able to,” Mercy replied. “You’re an exemplary agent, Symmetra, you hardly need my prompting to take action.” 

Despite their situation, stuck in the bottom of what seemed to be an explosion centered crater, Symmetra felt a flush of pride blooming in her chest. Since splitting from Vishkar at Sombra’s prompting, and joining Overwatch as the once company choked on its own ruin, she had always felt the pressure to work twice as hard to show her worth. It wasn’t that no one wanted her there; she’d been welcomed to the fold quite easily, even, the only friction blooming between herself and Lucio, but that was an obvious sore that needed more time to heal.

It was simply that she felt she needed to make up for Vishkar’s failings; the company had done so much good for India, for  _her_ , for millions of people. Yes, that did not take away from the misery and ruin it had caused, but that did not change the fact that Vishkar had been  _good_.

“This is,” Symmetra began, running diagnostics through her arm, and frowning at what she found, “not exactly ideal. I would simply craft a rudimentary lift, or even a ladder, but something is interfering with the power supply of my arm. Perhaps an injury sustained on the way down…”

She heard the soft whine of Mercy’s staff. “Perhaps I will be of some use there.”

“Just to keep it running, yes,” Symmetra answered, squeezing her hand into a fist. It was sluggish in response, and she pursed her lips. “But it would not repair the internal damage on my arm, and without that, I cannot craft.”  _My one use, taken from me. How humiliating…_

“I see,” Mercy answered, but her voice was gentle. “But I would still like to patch you up.”

“My injuries, arm aside, are merely superficial–” Symmetra paused upon seeing the determined pitch of a brow, “–but, by all means.”

The Caduceus Staff pouring a stream of golden light, the beam connecting and resonating with the nanobots she had been injected with pre-mission. Warmth blossomed over her skin, familiar and tight, grounding sensations that Symmetra relaxed under. It lasted only two seconds, as the scratches really  _were_  nothing but shallow scrapes, but Symmetra found that she wouldn’t have minded if it lasted longer still.

“There,” Mercy hummed, collapsing the staff into a much more manageable size and settling it in a holster by the pistol at her hip. “Now, I have an idea, but it would require permission to touch you. Ah, to carry you.”

Symmetra barely stifled the urge to recoil at the notion, but was curious. “Oh?”

“I can push the Valkyrie suit to it’s absolute limit for about twenty seconds,” Mercy answered, fiddling with the wrists of her suit. Pressing buttons Symmetra had never noticed before, she realized. “I could fly us out of here, and we could fall back to get your arm looked at.” 

“You…could  _fly?_ ” Symmetra asked, shocked. “I had no idea. I thought your suit was only capable of temporary gliding…”

“I had some modifications made.” Mercy’s lips were thin. “I simply had enough of hiding while the rest of you suffered, healing from the shadows…” She shook her head, then looked at Symmetra. “If you don’t consent, then I won’t touch you…but I don’t feel good leaving you here on your own. I-I don’t–I don’t want you to get hurt.”

That seemed almost like too intimate a confession to have in a pit, Symmetra observed, but her heart picked up speed and she felt a fluttery warmth pooling inside of her chest. It was…quite pleasant.

“Then,” she breathed, “I suppose…just once…I would like to see how it is to fly, Doctor Ziegler.” 

Mercy flashed her a smile, and clenched her fists. A deep breath, and a commanding word spoken in German, and her wings flared wide, light spilling from them in wide, blinding waves that rippled like fire. Had it not been for the slight strain on Mercy’s face, the gentle tremble of her shoulders, Symmetra would have been entranced by it.

But she could see that this was not what the suit was meant for; it was connected, intimately, with Mercy’s own body. The stress on it meant a stress on her. Still, when Mercy breathed out, wings shuddering, and offered a hand, Symmetra hurried to meet her.

She braced herself for gentleness, for soft irritating brushes of fingers against skin, but Mercy was firm, gripping her with a tightness that just bordered on painful–but it was grounding and it did not wander. Symmetra could not stifle the squeak that left her as Mercy scooped her up, one strong arm tight against her back and the other secured beneath her knees.

Slowly, Symmetra allowed her arms to come around Mercy’s neck.

“So, um,” Mercy stammered, staring up at the edge of the pit above them, “would you…care for coffee, after this? For a date, to be embarrassingly transparent with you.”

“That sounds very nice,” Symmetra murmured, then chuckled. “Was this your plan all along?”

“Absolutely not. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy this a little…”

And then…they  _flew._


End file.
